Page:Poems Rice.djvu/32

Through vistas of beauty, the landscape so still
Beyond did my dreams of enchantment fulfill;
No fairer of Eden has poet e'er sung,
No fairer did Milton e'er revel among:
A spell seemed to reign over earth and through skies
No language can paint, but the spirit replies
To the beauty of day, when its glory declines,
Crimsoning the waves of this River of Pines.

While pausing, enraptured, by slope and by steep,
I yielded my ear to thoughts chastened and deep;
From genius and worth, from a well-cultured mind,
All nature so hushed seems to worship inclined;
A voice,—aye, allow me to whisper the whole,
Each syllable thrilled with power to my soul,—
The echo vibrates those electrical lines,
From eloquent lips, by that River of Pines.

Those snatches were brief, yet they fell on the ear
In tones unimpassioned, pathetic, and clear;
Some chords that were touched with deep sorrow were strung,:
From others what marvelous melody rung:
Ah, why attempt to portray or compare,
While music defies, with its colorings rare;
When matchless the hues my ideal enshrines,
'Of minstrel and song, by this River of Pines.

Mountains were slumbering in silence profound;
With stars and with moonlight their summits were crowned;